


The Trials and Tribulations of the Designated Driver

by brainofck



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Jell-O, M/M, Masturbation, cowboy hat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-27
Updated: 2013-08-27
Packaged: 2017-12-24 20:13:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/944163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brainofck/pseuds/brainofck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daniel has much more fun Jell-o (yes, my spellchecker <i>did</i> make me spell it like that, since you asked) wrestling than any of us really imagined he would.  Well, I mean, we imagined he would <i>secretly</i> be delighted to be invited and even more secretly intrigued by the whole event and <i>even more secretly</i> that he would think it was awesome.  We just never figured he'd be so <i>out there</i> about it.  :D</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Trials and Tribulations of the Designated Driver

**Author's Note:**

  * For [seleneheart](https://archiveofourown.org/users/seleneheart/gifts).



> In response to Seleneheart's prompt for J/D and cowboy hats.

Dr. Daniel Ballard Jackson, PhD, PhD, when drunk, was like a grabby three-year-old. A six-foot tall, one-hundred ninety pound, bench-presses yaddayaddanotlistening, three-year-old. Who could climb like a monkey and was equally evasive. And sneaky.

"Daniel," Jack called back over his shoulder. He hated the nasal whine that had crept into his own voice. At that age, Charlie used to bring out all the worst in Jack, too. "Give the nice, huge man his hat back."

After a few failed grabs for his headgear, Teal'c had given up and was now tolerantly supervising Daniel's antics as Jack prepared the back seat of his truck. His beautiful, beautiful baby truck, who was not going to be sullied by his preschooler of an archaeologist.

"Hey, Jack. Wanna suck?" Daniel asked him, from far too close. Jack clambered away from him up into the truck, twisting to find Daniel had shoved his hand toward Jack's face. There was, indeed, red Jell-O under Daniel's fingernails.

"No, Daniel," Jack replied. "I do not want to lick you. I don't even want to touch you. I don't even want you to touch my truck."

"Hey!" Daniel protested forelornly. "I put my clothes back on!" 

Teal'c's hat was tipped back on Daniel's head, nearly falling off, so that the brim framed his hopeful face; a crooked halo if Jack had ever seen one. Daniel, with his monkey climbing skills, hopped up and scooted in. Jack went out the other side as Teal'c took shotgun.

There were bits of red Jell-o in Daniel's hair, and sticking to his ear.

"And you couldn't just lick me," Daneil disagreed, putting his own thumb in his mouth, obviously thoroughly cleaning it with his tongue. Which was _not_ the slightest bit attractive. Though it was kind of hot… _Not going there!_ he sternly instructed his brain and libido. "You'd have to really suck," Daniel continued ( _NOT GOING THERE!_ ), contemplating his now damp, clean thumb. "And I'm not going to taste very good after I sit on this moldy tarp all the way home." Ah. Now he was starting to sound sulky.

"It's not moldy, Daniel. I take very good care of all my equipment." Jack said tersely.

Jack thought he heard a noise from Teal'c and shot the Jaffa a sideways glance. But no, he was as stoic as always. Daniel, however, commented in a loud, drunken _sotto voce_.

"I bet you do."

Jack resisted the urge to bang his forehead on the steering wheel. He started the engine.

Daniel rested his head back against the seat and tipped Teal'c's hat down over his face.

"I think the hat's a loss, T," Jack commented. "Sorry."

"It does not concern me, O'Neill," Teal'c replied amiably. "I found the event most invigorating. Though DanielJackson could have made better use of several of the holds MajorCarter and I have been teaching him."

"Yeah, well, have you been teaching him to use them on well-oiled, half-naked nurses?" Jack asked.

"Perhaps you have a valid point, O'Neill," Teal'c murmured philosophically. In the rearview, Daniel appeared to be asleep.

Teal'c turned on the radio and started flipping stations. The drive back to the mountain was quiet and blissfully free of doctoral-level regurgitation.

Jack saw Teal'c safely to the doors of the Cheyenne facility, then turned around to take Daniel home.

As they headed back down the twisting roads, Daniel rustled and shifted in the back seat. 

"Oh, that feels better," Daniel said, with a heartfelt sigh.

Jack flicked his eyes to the rearview again, concentration mostly on the road.

"Daniel, if you have pissed your pants, you are paying for the detailing tomorrow."

Silence.

Jack stole another look back. Daniel was sitting hunched forward, so that all Jack could see in the mirror was the crown of the cowboy hat.

"I think I have Jell-o on my penis," Daniel said bemusedly. "Also, unsurprisingly, I suppose," there was a little hitch in the narrative, "Jell-o has terrible lubricant properties."

"Daniel…" Jack said, trying to sound menacing and not just shocked and shamefully turned on, "You'd better not be exposing yourself back there."

"Who's gonna see, Jack? This thing is taller than every other car in traffic." Daniel's statement was closely followed by a throaty groan.

"Daniel! So help me!" Jack growled.

"Though I guess that trucker back there might have noticed," Daniel sighed.

"Goddammit," Jack barked.

"Oh, yeah, keep talking Jack. That went right to my balls."

Jack opened his mouth to yell at him again and tripped over his own tongue, spluttering. Another quick glance back showed him Daniel's head tipped back again, eyes and nose still hidden by the hat, but his red, smiling, gasping lips very, very visible.

He slouched down farther in the seat and rearranged his legs. Jack imagined his knees falling wide open and winced at the idea of the damage the zipper could do. The movement of his shoulders indicated that both hands were involved now.

The image in his head was lurid and unwelcome and likely to haunt him for weeks, if not months to come.

"Ride 'em, cowboy," Jack muttered.

"Yippie-kai-yay, motherfucker," Daniel gasped out. Jack kept his eyes glued to the road. If he looked in the rear view and saw Daniel in the rictus of orgasm he'd probably wreck the truck. It was a miracle he hadn't done it already.

"All done back there, Danny boy?" Jack asked blandly.

No answer.

He looked back one more time.

Daniel was sleeping peacefully, hat completely down over his face again. His dick no doubt lying limp on his probably cum covered lap.

Jack sighed. At the bottom of the hill he pointed his truck in the direction of his own house and the shelter of his attached garage.

He wondered if he could just drag Daniel inside on the tarp and let him sleep it off in the mud room.

But before that, he was gonna let back the reclining seat and have a really nice, slow reward for all his pain and suffering. His dick throbbed impatiently. Maybe he would imagine sucking red Jell-o off Daniel's fingers while he did it.


End file.
